


Covenant of the Fae

by szm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fae & Fairies, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szm/pseuds/szm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was taken from the world by a fairy. This is the story of how he came back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If You Love Something

He has a name he can’t remember; in his head he calls himself Stiles.

When they hear him (they hear everything) they laugh. Their laughter sounds like thousands of silver bells, each one slightly out of sync with the others.

(He can remember silver bells. She used to hang them at… sometime… it was important. _She_ was important. But everything here slips away. It’s hard to hold onto anything. Everything slips and changes. Nothing is consistent. Everything is in a constant state of flux.)

“The human doesn’t talk anymore,”

“It talks all the time,”

“That’s thinking, Sister,”

“Oh, is that different?”

“For them it is. It can’t live here, it will die,”

“But it came with me. I offered and it agreed. It’s mine now. I never had something that’s mine before,”

“Ownership has obligations, Sister. It will die here,”

Silver bells laughter everywhere, around and inside Stiles. It hurts his… what’s the word..? Head? Soul?

“Silly Brother, I’m not going to let it _die_. I love it.”

Stiles has a sudden, fleeting memory. A fragment. He clears his throat, it feels strange and dry from lack of use but only now when he thinks it should. It didn’t before. “If you love something, let it go.”

Words here are different. He watches the colours of them fly away from him towards Sister and Brother. Sister claps her hands in joy. “See Brother, it’s wonderful.” She bends and twists around his words until he can’t recognise them anymore. “Such a beautiful funny little thing. Most humans are so very _boring_. I could never send it back to them. They would chain it up with all those _rules_ and _expectations_.”

Those are words Stiles recognises, but Sister makes them grimy, spiky, lurking things that scurry away to dark corners. Stiles doesn’t think they’re supposed to be like that, he goes after them and pulls them close to him. He thinks they’re supposed to shine and feel warm, like ‘needed’ and ‘loved’. Sister and Brother don’t need anything. They can change faster than Stiles can think. 

“What if I can find a place for it? Somewhere with something… not human?”

“… Somewhere, it would be… what’s that thing brother? Some humans are, not many, but some? It makes even the dull ones pretty.”

“Happy, Sister?”

“Yes!” Sister twinkled with glee. “Yes, I’d like to see my Stiles happy. I want that!”

**

It was a part of the woods Derek’s family never went into. It wasn’t a prohibition as such, just not something that you did. Derek never even thought to question it really, although he knew Aunt Jemma had been once. Nobody talked about that.

But of course, after yet another argument about Allison, it was exactly the part of the forest Scott ran to. Derek chased after, because he thought of Scott as his responsibility. Even if Scott hated him. Derek tackled Scott into a clearing.

“Scott, we can’t be here!” he shouted to the beta, but Scott was still struggling and they rolled further into the clearing.

“Why!” Scott shouted back. “Is that another random werewolf rule you just made up? Where do you even drag these things from?”

Derek could feel the tremors of anger in Scott body. The force of will it was taking the younger werewolf to hold the change back. Scott was so scared of what he was, it made Derek equal parts sad and angry. But he could remember feeling this intensely, about an Argent even. He knows how this ends, what he’s protecting Scott from. He won’t fail. So he holds on tighter, forces himself to speak quietly into Scott’s ear. “Look around you, you can hear it, smell it, _feel_ it. The world isn’t right here. It’s… stretched too thin.”

He feels Scott still as he notices it. “Can you hear bells?” asked Scott in a whisper.

Derek stands and lets Scott up. He opens his mouth to tell Scott they should go when suddenly three people appear in the clearing. No smoke or flash of light, they just appeared, between one second and the next. There’s a woman and a man flanking a younger boy, maybe the same age as Scott. Derek frowns, he feels like he knows the boy somehow. But he doesn’t. He’s never seen the boy before, doesn’t even recognise the boys scent.

Scott is looking at the boy intensely. “I know you,” he said slowly, as if tasting each word. “You’re… important. Somehow. Aren’t you?”

The boy flinches, almost as if he’d been struck and Scott took a panicked step back. “I’m Scott,” he smiled at the boy, face warm and open like only Scott’s could be.

Derek felt himself growl. “Don’t give them your name, never do that.”

The man was tall, at least six foot, with golden hair that fell below his shoulders in waves. His features were pointed and dainty, and he was slight in build. He should look fragile, but that wasn’t the feeling Derek got from him at all. He looked amused. “But we already know you Derek Hale.”

Derek showed the strangers his teeth, dropping into a position ready to attack if needs be.

The woman was as tall as the man and looked very similar, but her hair fell to her waist. They both wore clothes made from a light sliver material than shone in the moonlight. The woman was frowning at Scott, who was still staring at the boy like he was a difficult maths problem.

“How does he remember? I took Stiles from the world, completely,” she said, her voice musical but at the same time jarring.

The man smiled at her indulgently. “Humans have bonds that are hard even for us to break completely, Sister. Like love, friendship, family.”

“I won’t leave it with humans,” the woman pouted, stamping her foot.

“Look again, Sister,” replied the man.

“Oh!” exclaimed the woman. “Werewolves! You played with a werewolf once.”

“Same family,” said the man, lightly. Derek’s growling intensified.

“They don’t look very happy,” said the woman. “What if they hurt my Stiles? This world is so very harsh.”

“Maybe Stiles will make them happy, and they him in return?” suggested the man. “Won’t it be fun to find out?”

Scott took several steps forward, Derek wanted to snatch him back but that would mean taking his eyes off the man. “Please,” Scott asked the woman. “He needs to stay with us, I promise I’ll keep him safe. He belongs here. I’m not sure how I know that. But I do.”

The woman giggled. “Oh, I like you, your friend is all angles but you are so curvy. Yes, you wolves can keep my Stiles. For now.”

The man and they woman disappeared, leaving the boy, Stiles, on his own. He dropped to the floor as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. He was suddenly shivering and whimpering as if he’d been out in the woods for hours. Scott ran over and pulled him into a hug.

“It’s okay, man. I got you, you’re safe. Okay. Safe?” said Scott. The boy said nothing, just buried deeper into Scott’s arms, forehead resting on Scott’s neck.

“Scott,” hissed Derek angrily. “Do you even know what they were? This is probably all a trick!”

Stiles looked at Derek over Scott’s shoulder. He had deep amber coloured eyes, Derek felt a jolt of recognition he couldn’t place. “Derek,” said the boy carefully, as if he was dragging the words from far away. “I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me.”

Then the boy passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

When Stiles came to he was alone, somewhere dark and cold, lying on a mattress on the floor. The first thing he felt was terribly heavy, stuck, he dragged a breath into lungs that felt as if they were made of concrete. Something hot and boiling was rising in his chest. He twisted to the side in time to throw up onto the floor rather than the mattress. He scrabbled away from the smell, coughing as he went. The door opened and the nice one from the clearing was there. Scott, in the clearing he’d said his name was Scott. Stiles felt himself relax a little. He trusted Scott, something about him made Stiles feel safe. As if everything was going to be okay somehow.

“Hey, dude,” said Scott softly. “Are you okay? I heard you wake up, your heartbeat was going crazy. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Scott led him out of the room talking softly about nothing in particular as he went. It washed over Stiles, feeling soothing, like the opposite of Sister’s laughter. Scott led him to a bathroom. It felt surprising that there should be a bathroom. That was odd, right? This was a house, albeit a badly kept one. Houses have bathrooms, Stiles could remember that. So why would it be surprising that this house had a bathroom? Scott helped him into the shower his ongoing monologue assuring Stiles that his Mom was a nurse so this was totally okay and Stiles shouldn’t be freaking out about Scott seeing him naked. Stiles wondered why that would freak him out, he couldn’t really imagine Scott doing anything that would upset him. 

“Will you be okay, man?” asked Scott breaking into Stiles’ thoughts. “I need to go clean up in the other room. Derek doesn’t need another reason to be mad, you know?”

Stiles let the warm water run over his head, he nodded to Scott.

Scott looked at him and for a brief second Stiles felt like he knew who he was, but then that second broke and was washed away. “You don’t talk much do you?” asked Scott. “That feels wrong somehow.” With a shake of his head Scott was gone and Stiles was alone again. 

It felt odd, with Sister and Brother and the others he’d never really been alone. There everything was jumbled up into one thing. Here everything was so far apart. It was scary, but strangely liberating at the same time. Like here Stiles had room to just _be_. Stiles fumbled with the shower dial until it turned off. He got out of the shower, now cold again. There were towels on top of the toilet lid. He wrapped the biggest one around himself. The door opened and Scott came in with a bag of clothes.

“Hey! Looking better already, here some clothes just wear whatever you feel comfortable in, okay? I’m going downstairs, Derek’s got some food downstairs, I hope,” Scott said smiling hugely.

Stiles forced words past his uncooperative throat. “Thank you,” he said. It was worth it to see Scott’s smile grow even wider.

Stiles dressed, and soon was sat with Scott at a basic but actually fairly well appointed kitchen. Scott gave him some sandwiches and Stiles didn’t realise until he started eating how hungry he actually was. Scott just kept feeding him and talking, is if he were trying to fill some great hole. He told Stiles all about his life. About his Mom, and a girl called Allison. They had used to date but now were broken up. Scott however was certain they would get back together. The more Scott talked the more Stiles felt like he could remember things. Not specific things but general ones, like he could operate in this world, like maybe he was even supposed to be here.

“So,” continued Scott. “This is Derek’s house, it was pretty much gutted in a fire years ago, but now he’s started fixing it up. Trust me, it used to be a whole lot worse!”

“I’ll bet,” replied Stiles. “It sort of feels like the running water is a new thing.”

Scott gave him an odd look, “It is. How did you know that?”

Stiles shrugged. “The taps are new, here and in the bathroom. And…” Stiles hesitated it was a difficult feeling to explain. But he did trust Scott. “I kinda feel like the house _shouldn’t_ have indoor plumbing. Like it _didn’t_.”

“Like a memory,” came a voice from the doorway. Scott’s head shot round to see who it was, then he’d moved himself between Stiles and the other man. Derek was a little way behind the newcomer, looking wary, like he expected trouble. Stiles slipped off the stool he was sitting on and edged slightly towards the window, but all he managed was to back himself into the counter, hard edge digging into his side. Scott was _growling_ low in his throat and…

“Oh my god, you’re all werewolves. And that’s Peter. How the hell do I know that!?” blurted out Stiles, his chest felt tight and it was making it hard to breath.

“Stiles,” said Derek gruffly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s most definitely _not_ okay,” disagreed Peter. 

Scott’s arm was round Stiles shoulder and Stiles concentred on matching his breathing to his friends. 

“What the hell is going on?” asked Stiles in a whisper.

He hadn’t directed the question to anyone in particular but Peter answered. “I think you’ve been away with the fairies. They don’t normally give people back without a fight.”

“I was dying, fading away, she brought me here… I… I’m…” Stiles struggled to find the right words, leaning heavily on Scott. He looked over at Derek who looked almost pained. He kept glancing between Stiles and Peter, as if he was lost.

“Dangerous,” said Peter darkly. “You’re dangerous.”

Stiles shook his head, he didn’t feel dangerous at all. 

“They don’t let people go,” continued Peter taking a step forward. Derek lay a hand on his shoulder to halt him. Peter shook it off and turned to snarl at Derek. Derek’s eyes flashed red and Peter turned back to Stiles. “They are still following him, watching him. You’re too young to remember what happened to Jemma.”

Stiles could almost see the guilt hanging around Peters head and shoulders. He was sure Sister would have loved it. It made him feel sick.

“I’ll leave,” he said standing up straight.

“No,” said Derek eyes red. 

“Why not?” asked Stiles. “I can’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure we don’t like each other.”

Derek just looked stubborn in response.

“He can stay with me,” said Scott suddenly. 

“What if I am dangerous?” asked Stiles, he meant to be challenging, but he just sounded small.

Scott just beamed at him. “You’re not, dude. You’re Stiles.” 

**

She’s been going by ‘Elle’ for as long as she can remember. Her actual given name is a long and complicated family name, so she goes by Elle. It’s not that she doesn’t like her name, quite the opposite she loves it, but she tends to treat it like best china. Something to be wrapped up and put away, only to be brought out on special occasions. Like her wedding. And her divorce.

She met Melissa McCall after the younger woman moved to Beacon Hills after her own, considerably more messy, divorce. They fell into an easy friendship, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who hadn’t been a friend of the couple Elle had been a part of, before. 

Melissa had a son, that was difficult, Scott was about the same age Elle’s son would have been, if he’d lived. Cot death, three days after she’d brought him home from the hospital. Neither Melissa or Scott knew anything about that. That was another wonderful thing about them, there was no pity in them because they _didn’t know_.

“Hey, still with me?” asked Melissa carrying in two coffee’s. 

Elle smiled back. “Sorry, wool-gathering.”

Melissa passed over one of the coffees and settled into the chair next to the sofa Elle was sat on. They chatted, about nothing in particular for a while, until Scott came home, dragging another boy in by the wrist.

“Hey Mom, this is Stiles. He needs a place to stay,” said Scott breathlessly. 

Elle looked at the boy Scott had dragged in. He seemed terrified.

“Hey kid,” she said to him softly. “You okay?”

The boy looked at her like a rabbit in the headlights. 

“Sorry,” said Scott. “Mrs Stilinski, this is Stiles. Stiles this is Mrs Stilinski.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am british I apologise for any britishisms that have snuck in. If anyone is interested in american-checking for me in the future I will be very greatful.
> 
> I have a tumblr http://shakebadguyshake.tumblr.com/ please feel free to go there and poke me for new chapters, I am aiming for less of a wait between this and the next one.


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